Twilight
by Sylvan
Summary: Upon waking after shutting the door on the Darkness, Riku finds himself alone, wandering vacant memories that hold nothing but darkness. Will he again succumb to the Darkness? Based roughly on CoM but not necessary to understand the story. M violence
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Revisions, revisions, hurrah, hurrah! Basically, I've never really put half the effort into fanfiction that I do into my originals, and upon really stepping back and looking at it, I decided that I'm really not proud of my half-assing. So, yeah, nothing plot or action-wise changing; just some minor wording issues. Pacing's a bit much to worry about this far along, but later chapters will show much stronger efforts. Particularly where dialogue is concerned – I need to add action and description between characters talking more, yeesh.

Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters, I would sue every last fangirl (not the same as "female fan") for what they've done to my creation. However, non-Disney/Square characters obviously belong to me, and I don't know why you would want them.

Prologue

Silence was the cruelest force in existence, Riku decided. It just wasn't possible to defeat it on his own. The sound his very breath, let alone the sound of his own voice, echoing unanswered throughout the silent halls, only emphasized his isolation. Castle Oblivion – that's what they called his prison. Oblivion was confinement in a beautiful, well-lit palace with no windows. Oblivion was wandering from memory to memory and finding that all the people whom he wanted to remember had been cut out. Oblivion was realizing that this emptiness was all that remained in his heart and soul.

The hooded figures – the apparent keepers of this dark castle – appeared periodically, reminding him in mocking tones that the friends he missed so achingly were cast away by his own hand. Ansem himself had appeared, perhaps two or three days ago, now – without the sun, Riku found it impossible to measure time – urging him to accept once more the Darkness he now sought to destroy, lest his heart remain nothing but an empty shell for all eternity.

Even the weighty silence was preferable to these grim words. Riku had vowed that neither Darkness nor Ansem would ever control him again. He was not a puppet, and he would not be toyed with.

The islander kept his thoughts diverted from his doubts, grasping instead at the memories he feared forgetting – memories of who he had been and who he should be. He remembered his mother – her silvery white hair, just like his, and slate-colored eyes. Her accent was so foreign to the natives of the island but so familiar to him. He could almost feel her affectionate touch and loving smile - and her stern disapproval when he misbehaved. He remembered his father, whose indigo eyes and dark, island complexion were the same as his son's, whose intelligence and willpower were only surpassed by his love for his tiny family. He could see him in his mind, seated half slouched in a wicker chair, watching as if only his constant supervision could keep the world turning the way it meant to. It had been a long time since Riku had really thought about them. He wondered how they felt having lost their only child – provided, of course, that they were still alive after all that had happened.

Of course, Sora and Kairi were there, locked so deep inside his heart that he wouldn't have been able to remove them if he'd wanted to. His teasing competitions with Sora played easily in his mind, Kairi always off to the side, giggling and cheering them on. He blocked out the wrongs he'd done his friends since then as best he could, knowing that acknowledging his fall was necessary, but wanting the happier times to remain unmarred by such gloom. He would need the strength of such innocent memories if he were to redeem himself.

Further back in his mind, he could see the other children he grew up with – Wakka and Tidus and Selphie – friends not as treasured, perhaps, but dear all the same. He wondered what they'd think if they saw him now, if they knew all that had happened. If he returned to the island today, would they look up to him as they did before?

Of course, there were more memories, ones that he'd somehow misplaced, despite all their significance. There was the redheaded boy who'd lived down the street from him, whom he'd walked to school with for the first year or so. He'd died of an illness when they were about six. It had been Riku's first experience with death – so strange that he should have forgotten the boy's name.

There was also the dark-haired girl from another island who came to visit each summer – a bright-eyed pixie who both Riku and Sora had favored when they were small. Two or three years after Kairi arrived on the island, she stopped coming. Those first few summers, Riku had waited for her anxiously, but over time, life overtook him and pushed her from his mind. He'd forgotten her name as well. He knew it was moping, but he didn't care; he wondered how long it would take for the others on the island to forget _his_ name.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note: More editing, more frustration. I suppose I'll manage.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, and I'm not making any money off of this, so I'll write what I want, you commy bastards.

Chapter One

"You can't escape me," Ansem whispered, reaching out to take the face of his captive in his hands. The Darkness hissed in the ears of the young islander, seductive voices beckoning the youth to take up its power once again. "Wherever you go, the Darkness will follow. It is a part of you, and it will consume you. You cannot deny yourself. You cannot deny me."

"I will remake myself," Riku argued, jerking back before the cold hands could caress his skin. "The Darkness hasn't consumed me yet; I'll destroy it before it can. I'll return to the light."

"Will you, now?" Ansem chuckled in mirthless amusement. "But remember, my dear boy: the stronger the Light, the greater the shadows become."

In an instant, Riku's tormentor was gone, as if he had never been. The very scent of him had vanished. But the islander couldn't ease the tension from his spine and shoulders. He could still feel the yellow eyes upon him, the dark hand reaching out to clasp him in an iron grip. Wherever he went, Ansem would be there. It would never change, not until he destroyed him.

Riku turned to go, but his eyes fell upon the blankness below him. He froze in mid-step, staring down at the white marble floor beneath his feet. Biting his lip, he shifted, looking all about him, but no matter where he turned, it remained the same. No shadow fell upon the floor. It was if the light passed straight through him with neither hindrance nor interruption.

Spreading his fingers before him, Riku thought they certainly looked and _felt_ solid, but still, they left no silhouette upon the floor. His body seemed to have ceased to exist at all. A chill ran through the islander, and he realized with a sudden certainty that something dark and sinister loomed behind him. Swallowing hard, he turned to face his assassin.

Riku's eyes snapped open, and he was halfway to his feet before he realized where he was. A nightmare, he supposed, though he couldn't really be certain of anything anymore. He seemed to be having a lot of them lately, mostly about Ansem or the havoc he had brought to his own home.

Shuddering, the islander straightened, attempting to work the knots out of his sore muscles as he did so. The marble floor made for a terrible bed, and he hated to leave himself so vulnerable while he slept, but his choices were few. He had to rest sometime.

A strange draft brushed Riku's skin, and he stopped, sniffing the air. It had only been recently that he'd noticed the smells – dark, cold scents that he couldn't place with anything physical. In some ways, they reminded him of wet soil, of a cold night, of rain, or even of decay. They could somehow be sweet and alluring one moment and sour and repugnant like an over-ripe fruit the next. The islander could only be certain of one thing: the smells connected to the Darkness.

Even now, he discovered that there were new scents as well, ones that were too faint to notice before, but they were overpowered by a smell that he was becoming all too familiar with. Riku instinctively readied his sword, not waiting for the foreboding shape of Ansem to fully emerge.

"I see my presence is no surprise," mused the puppet master.

Riku circled away carefully, eying his persistent foe. "You reek of the Darkness," he spat. "I can smell you from miles away."

"I know what you can do," Ansem bit off. "Don't forget that I controlled you once."

"Believe me, I won't."

Ansem ignored these last words pointedly, continuing as though he had never been interrupted. "Every day the Darkness within you grows stronger. It's a shame that one so gifted would turn away from his talents."

"So you think I should led _you_ control my talents. Why would I give my gifts to someone I don't even like?"

"Because I am the more capable of putting those talents to the greatest use. I so hate to see waste."

Riku cocked an eyebrow. "So you take control of my body, my mind, _and_ my heart, and I'm left hollow, all in the name of conservation? No thanks. I think I'll pass."

Ansem chuckled. It was a cold, empty sound. "Very well, then; we'll part for now. But before I take my leave of you, I have a gift."

As those last words tumbled from Ansem's lips, Riku felt the very air about him turn to ice, and it was suddenly as though a dark shadow descended upon his being, seeping through his skin and into the core of himself. "What did you do to me?" he demanded, readying himself to attack.

"I've expanded on your talents. We'll see how long you can resist them." And Ansem faded into the shadows once again, giving little more warning of his departure than he had in the islander's nightmare. The only indication that he'd ever been was the lingering scent and the nervous itch between Riku's shoulder blades.


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Note: I advise against reading this chapter aloud in a documentary, British accent. If you do, I'll know. And I'll find you. This goes for British maid voices, too.

Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts, I'd have Riku kill my best friend. As for reality, I can only steal the plot line and hide cackling in a pantry somewhere.

Chapter Two

Regaining control of his nerves, Riku drew his remaining cards from his pocket. There were six left - six paper-thin, ivory tablets, each depicting a world from his memory, six more demons to destroy. Approaching the silvery doors, the islander selected a card portraying a great ship, floating upon an angry sea.

He sighed as he placed the card upon the seal. His experiences with Captain James Hook had been less than agreeable, even when the Darkness was still favorable. He supposed he'd feel little remorse in destroying his shadow.

As the ivory tablet clicked into place, the barrier shattered, countless shards of silvery light bursting forth and the doors swinging open, and Darkness poured into the room. Black winds embraced the islander, pulling him through the portal. The dull clang of metal doors slamming shut sounded with a chilling sense of finality, and Riku knew better than to look back for an exit. The door would already be gone. He was in the bowels of Captain Hook's vessel, now, and the only path led forward.

The pitch and roll of the sea took Riku by surprise and threw the islander back against the wall, but he regained his footing quickly. Life surrounded by sea and boats had gifted him with the ability to adjust to such changes quickly. Unfortunately, his brief loss of balance had both alerted the resident Heartless and given them the advantage.

The dark beings came at him in a rush, seeking to overwhelm him before he could draw his sword. Riku went down beneath the mass, the air forced from his lungs as something dense struck him in the stomach. He felt his heart thudding heavily in his chest, and adrenaline flooded his veins. No sick twist of fate was going to kill him here!

Curling up on his back to shield himself from the blows and gain some leverage, Riku braced himself against the wall. With a hard push against the wooden planks, he kicked out at his assailants, throwing all of his weight into the forward motion. Dark bodies flew back as he shot into the air and landed in a defensive crouch on his feet.

Unwilling to let his advantage pass him by, he drew his blade and pounced upon his disoriented attackers, cutting the first of them down before they had time to regroup. The shadowlike beasts evaporated into a dark mist, leaving not a drop of blood as limbs and heads were severed from bodies. Their violent ends affected Riku little. It was difficult to empathize with a faceless being and even more so with one that would not so much as cry out in pain.

The would-be assassins fell faster than rain, leaving no evidence of carnage in their passing, only a quickly dissipating mist. The rush in Riku's veins built as he slit Heartless from shoulder to opposite hip, plunged his sword into shadowy bellies and twisted upwards to collarbones, and cleaved dark bodies in two. In what was both a passing moment and an eternity to the islander, he stood alone in the storage room. It was only then that he became aware of the numerous cuts and bruises that covered his arms and legs, and even then, the recognition was only passing. Something greater throbbed inside of him.

Riku drew in a deep, shuddering breath, placing his hand over his heart. A surge of searing energy and emotion swelled within his ribcage, pushing against the barriers of his reason, barely contained. It was a craving for battle, a promise of power, fueled by bloodlust. It made the islander's blood run cold as he realized it was part of the Darkness within him.

Ansem had awakened something that tore at Riku's heart, demanding release. He dreaded unleashing it, fearing that it would overwhelm him, but he knew there would be no willing it away. The only thing he could do was destroy the Darkness before it consumed him. He couldn't turn back, now.

Approaching a row of barrels that lined one wall, Riku began prying them open with his sword in search of food. A long gash running down his left forearm throbbed and bled horribly, but he had not supplies for treating the injury, so he made his best attempt to ignore the pain instead. The first two barrels proved wasted efforts, containing rope and some rough, dirty cloth that was most likely meant for patching sails and made for a sure promise of infection if he tried to bandage his wound with it. The third, thankfully, was full of apples that appeared edible, if rather bruised.

Riku dug through the stash, hunting the fruit that was in the best condition. He devoured several before pocketing a few more. There was no food for him to find within the walls of Castle Oblivion, and he had to stay prepared for when he couldn't find any in the worlds he visited either.

His needs met, the youth crossed to the door on the opposite wall. He cracked it open and peered cautiously inside. Several Heartless roamed another storage room, looking only half-interested in their surroundings. He waited until none of them looked in the direction of the door before slipping through the doorway.

Pressing himself to the wall, Riku slipped behind a crate and crouched low. In his experience, the rooms in the memory worlds didn't follow the laws of reality. The doors didn't have to lead anywhere in particular and were as likely to end in a dead-end as in where he wanted to be. Already injured and anxious over the dark force walled inside his heart, the youth preferred to avoid fighting as much as he could. He crept along silently, hiding behind whatever barriers the room afforded him until he reached the room's only door.

Riku placed his hand on the doorknob and cast a wary eye about the room. Seeing that no Heartless was looking his way, he pushed the door open and peered inside – no doors; it was a dead-end. A large Heartless in the other room caught sight of him and lowered its demon-headed shield, charging. The islander jumped and pulled the door shut quickly, sealing the creature off from him.

The slamming sound seemed unbearably loud, and Riku bit off an obscenity as two of the Heartless looked toward him inquisitively. The youth scrambled away with as much as speed as he could manage without sacrificing stealth before the pair could come investigate the door. Creeping back to his entrance, he held his breath until he felt the door behind him. As soon as he grasped the handle in his hand, he abandoned covertness and slung the door open, throwing himself through and pulling it shut again behind him.

Riku leaned heavily against the door, sliding down to the floor of the room he'd started in. He sighed heavily, banging his head lightly on the hard surface behind him, and stared up at the ceiling. _Today_, the islander thought irritably, _is really gonna suck._


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Note: There is no pornography in this fic (damn you, Abbie!), and if you read it that way, I'll find you. For the record, letting you friends read over your shoulder while you edit leads to teeth grinding and jaw splitting.

Disclaimer: If the president of Square-Enix wants to see his parents again, he'll leave the rights to the Kingdom Hearts games at the 43rd interstate exit by midnight Friday night…

Chapter Three

Riku wanted to groan as he dragged himself through yet another door, but groaning would have meant alerting the Heartless to his presence. He was certain he'd taken every meandering path to nowhere available to him by now, and if this one was wrong, he'd lose his already feeble grip on his sanity. His bones ached from hours spent creeping about on his hands and knees. His vision blurred from too long without sleep. His mind screamed in protest of the sheer repetition of life traveling from lonely castle to broken memory to castle again. He was exhausted by running, exhausted by fighting, but most of all, he was exhausted by his struggle to keep the dark energy walled-up inside of him.

It seemed to the islander that he had been traversing his memories of Neverland for countless months, even years. In reality, it couldn't have been more than a full day or so, given that he was still on his feet and not hallucinating - or so he thought. His mind had long since given way to the most ludicrous of speculations. He found himself considering that this whole nightmare might be nothing more than an illusion, that he was really just asleep or in a coma or even sitting in a sanitarium somewhere, surrounded by doctors and loved ones who struggled daily to reach him. He found himself asking the age-old question: do the insane question their sanity? Initially, these ideas had served as amusement to the pass the hours, but more and more, his musings began to sound sensible.

Practically crawling along the floor, Riku was in agony, not from physical injury as much as mental fatigue. Sardonically considering the pitfalls of slitting his own wrists, he rounded a sharp corner and stared up at the golden, intricately carved door. The islander gasped, the strongest sense of elation he'd experienced in what felt like centuries washing over him in waves. At long last, he could be done with this vacant mockery of a world.

No longer caring if the Heartless caught sight of him, Riku leapt to his feet, ignoring his creaking joints. He thrust the doors open quickly, hearing the rush of footsteps and dark whisperings behind him, closing in. He whirled as he raced through the door, slamming the barrier shut on the grasping, claw-like hands of his pursuers, wisps of black rising from severed fingers. Leaning against the heavy wood, he released his breath in a long, heavy sigh.

"So the foolish brat returns," sounded a painfully familiar voice that left Riku's nerves raw. Captain James Hook was as irritating as he remembered.

The islander turned to face the pirate, noting that, while before he was clearly deep within the bowels of the vessel, he now stood on deck in the open sea air. When he first arrived in Castle Oblivion, it would have disconcerted him, but he had learned to expect such strange occurrences. "I'm no fool, Hook," he told the captain coolly. "A brat, maybe, but never a fool."

"Ha!" the pirate scoffed. "You never did appreciate the power that laid before you, boy. I never could understand why Maleficent put up with a whelp like you."

"Oh, I still have power, Hook. And it's beyond anything the Darkness could offer." Riku drew his sword in a flash and charged the captain, but Hook was quicker than he imagined, turning aside and slicing the youth across the back. A white-hot pain ran from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and the islander didn't have to see the blood to know it was there.

As Riku regained his composure, Hook reached into an inner pocket of his crimson coat, retrieving several small packets of gunpowder. With a flick of his wrist, he set the dangerous canisters alight and hurled them at the recovering youth.

Riku could feel the wall within him weakening as he rolled to his left, out of reach of the blasts. His muscles throbbed and his wounds burned as he rolled across the hard, wooden deck, but he forced himself to rise. His legs trembled beneath him, threatening to give.

"Troublesome brat," the pirate growled. "I've got you, now!" As Hook spoke, he whipped three more of the small explosives from his hand.

Riku stumbled aside to avoid the assault, but one of the packets caught his right shoulder, bursting in a blast of searing pain. A strange sensation filled him, like a great dam shattering beneath the rush of a powerful flood. He could feel the Darkness rushing through his veins, taking control.

The ache and fatigue fled his body, and raw adrenaline washed the panic from his mind. The energy felt a part of his blood, a part of his being. Riku rushed Hook with a snarl that echoed the cry of a rabid beast, his movements more liquid than his injuries should have allowed. He was blind to the startled fear in the pirate's eyes, blind to everything but the power.

He charged, slashing from hip to opposite shoulder and spun on his heel, returning to cut across his spine. Hook's failing cries fell on deaf ears as he collapsed on the floor of the deck. Unlike the Heartless that roamed the ship's lower compartments, the phantom of the pirate captain did bleed. The crimson liquid spattered Riku's arms and face and pooled beneath his fallen opponent. It only vaguely disturbed him to discover that he didn't really care.

As life escaped the islander's foe, the fatigue washed over him once again, and his legs buckled beneath him. His senses returned in a rush of realization, the flood of energy and Darkness passing in an instant that left him aching to the core. Kneeling in the pool of blood, the irony scent mixing with the salty air and invading his senses, a wave of nausea assaulted him. For a moment, he thought he would be violently ill, but the sensation passed, and instead, he found himself overcome by a cold, numb emptiness.


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Ah, to have to write Disney characters seriously. I try, anyway. Mickey's much easier than Donald or Goofy. Which is why you may never see them in anything I write.

Disclaimer: I have too many bills.

Chapter Four

Riku hovered somewhere between wakefulness and unconsciousness, dimly aware that he was losing too much blood. He was far from dead, but rising was too physically demanding to hope for. _I'm going to die here_, he thought with all the bitterness a mind half-asleep could muster, _alone on a ship that's not even real._

He was vaguely aware of a light gathering before his eyes, taking shape, and wondered passingly if infection had already claimed him and if some higher being had the nerve to expect him to get up and walk into the light. Through his blurred vision, he realized suddenly that the illumination had taken the form of an unusually large mouse.

"Oh, c'mon, pal. You can't give up just yet!" piped a concerned voice.

"Your Majesty," Riku croaked. He raised his head wearily, squinting against the painful light. He could almost see the familiar face through the radiance. "You're here?" He reached for the figure, but his hand passed through as if nothing but air stood before him.

"Well, not exactly," the mouse explained. "You see, the Darkness won't let me in. It took me this long just to figure out how to break through like this. I can't keep it up for long."

"I see," Riku whispered. "Then, I really am alone."

"Now, that's not entirely true either! I'll find a way in soon enough! You just have to hang on a bit longer, that's all. I won't leave you alone in the Dark forever."

"Riku managed a weak smile. "Right. I get it. I'm... glad you came..."

"Now, stick with me, pal. You really got wallopped back there."

"Tell me about it..."

"I can help you out - enough to get you out of here, anyway." The mouse fell silent, head bent in concentration.

Riku closed his eyes, feeling the change in the air. A warm, peculiar tingling spread through his veins, soothing away some of the ache. When the sensation subsided, though he was still in great pain, he felt he possessed the strength to stand.

"Any better?" The mouse king sounded hopeful, as though he hadn't been sure his efforts would prove successful.

With some effort, the islander pushed himself up to his knees. He stared up at his savior gratefully, marveling at the mild relief from the pain. Working his stiff muscles, he glanced about the room, trying to grasp his bearings. He was still on the deck of the ship. The corpse of his fallen opponent hadn't moved, save for sliding a couple feet from the rocking of the vessel. The sickening, dark stain smeared across the wood.

Riku wretched violently at the sight, the world seeming to spin. Through all his wanderings, he had yet to kill a flesh and blood human. Even though Hook had been only a shadow, the body was too real, the smell of blood too strong. He felt sick through to his soul.

"Easy there, pal," the king comforted him. A reluctant air surrounded him. "Listen, I can't stick around any longer, but I'll be back. Take care!"

Riku looked up just in time to see his sole companion vanish. "No, wait!" he gasped, but there was no stopping him. The void he left behind was more painful than the islander would have imagined. It felt like he alone was living in all the worlds in all existence.

But something else in the room had changed as well - there was another door, pulsing and glowing with a soft, blue light - his way out of this shadow world. It would only lead back to Castle Oblivion, he knew, but even the mocking isolation of the castle was preferable to the bloodied corpse that accompanied him here. Even in Oblivion, there was hope.

Riku dragged himself to his feet, staggering toward the door - to another prison, but one without that accursed stain. He grasped the golden handle firmly and flung the portal open, swaying on his feet as the winds ripped through the ship deck out from beneath his feet. He stumbled as he landed, but caught himself before he could fall. Once again, he stood within the ivory halls of Castle Oblivion.


	6. Chapter Five

Author's Note: Reworking this chapter took more time than the previous ones, mainly because it just had more typos. Pacing wasn't as much an issue, though. Actually, I don't think chapters with Tai are as difficult to pace, for some reason. Probably because she won't let me mess her up. Oh, yeah, if you're reading this for the first time, you probably have no idea who Tai is. Sorry, you'll find out.

Disclaimer: Should've, could've, would've – I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. Tai, unfortunately, is mine, and I must ask that you not endanger the lives of yourselves and others by messing with her without giving me fair warning. Looks can be deceiving, but that doesn't mean they have to be.

Chapter Five

The smells washed over Riku before his head could even clear – smells that reminded of sea spray and nighttime rain, smells that reminded of the Darkness – and he knew that he was not alone. The scent was familiar, but only now was it sharp enough to identify. "I know you're here," he rasped. "Come out!"

"Behind you."

Riku whirled to face the speaker, nearly losing his footing. A girl stood in the corner, watching him with cool eyes, the irises like liquid silver. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The stranger took a step forward, wiping black hair – very much in need of brushing – back from her young, weary face. In the better light, he could see that she was around his age and perhaps an islander herself; she was rather dark-complexioned and, her bare waistline and sleeveless top suggested that she came from a warmer climate. The dark red wrap she wore around her waist over her black pants and boots was also common in traditional clothing on many islands. She studied his face a moment longer, one corner of her lips twitching slightly. "I was about to ask you the same question." The barest edge of amusement echoed in her voice.

"Too bad." She might have looked like an islander, but Riku's suspicions of anything and everything in his personal Hell wouldn't give so easily.

She laughed wryly. "Okay." She shook her head as if abandoning a thought, dark tangles brushing her face. "Man, you look familiar. Name's Tai."

Riku stared at her; he certainly didn't know _her_. "Riku," he answered finally. His voice sounded gravelly in his own ears. "You seem pretty unconcerned, Tai."

Tai sighed heavily. "I see you've met the hooded figures, too. But all the ones I've seen were perfectly fine. You've obviously been through Hell and back. I doubt you're one of them. Besides, you came out of one of those worlds." She inclined her head toward the door.

Riku pursed his lips. It made sense, but that wasn't enough to convince him. He _knew_ he wasn't one of them; he didn't know about her.

"Look, if you think I'm gonna off you, I would've done it while you were almost falling on your face a minute ago. I've had trouble with those hooded crackpots, too. Anyway, you're an islander, too, right?"

Riku grinned in spite of himself, the sense of a common bond relaxing him, however slightly. "I knew you were an islander."

"Yeah, I figured. We all look alike – though I don't think islanders usually have hair like that." She moved in closer, tilting her head back to see him better. She was rather curvy about the waist and hips, like a native dancer, but she was very short. "Anyway, you're hurt. Lemme help you." When Riku hesitated, she continued insistently, "You'll be sorry when all those gashes start turning black and green."

"I guess I'm not in any shape to argue," the youth relented. He had enough problems without worrying about infection.

Tai flashed a wicked grin. "Thought so. Now sit down."

Riku obeyed carefully, seating himself on the marble floor with a strong regard for his wounds, though he really felt like collapsing and never moving again. Tai sat before him, dropping a beaten leather bag from her back beside her. The pale-haired islander caught sight of a mean-looking spiked ball, attached to a long, iron chain, but his new companion seemed uninterested in hiding the weapon. She dug through the pack, removing a pair of long, black leather gloves – most likely meant as protection from the chains – a tattered blanket, and finally some bandages and healing supplies.

Tai, herself, was not without injuries, Riku noticed as he observed her. Despite the gloves, bruises that obviously resulted from the heavy, continuous pressure of chains laced her forearms, and it appeared that her bottom lip had split open a day or so before. Her left shoulder was bandaged tightly as well.

"Now, lemme see that arm," she commanded quietly.

Riku obeyed, holding out his left hand wordlessly. As flesh met flesh, he abandoned caution, seizing the islander girl's shoulder with his uninjured arm and clutching her wrist with the other hand. His heart leapt to his throat and a strange relief washed over him as his hands connected solidly with another human being.

Tai jerked back, her eyes wide with alarm, and Riku released her, returning to himself. "Sorry," he murmured awkwardly. "I just needed to be sure you were real." He laughed nervously. "I'm losing my mind."

Tai's eyes gleamed with what might have been sympathy – or maybe just pity. "You've been here a long time," she whispered, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"Yeah," agreed Riku, "at least, I think so."

"I understand what you mean, though. When I first realized someone else was here, I thought I was just imagining things." She took hold of his injured arm again. "I'm real, I promise… But please don't lunge at me like that again. I thought you were gonna choke me or something." She began rubbing a strange oil over the wound – some sort of disinfectant, Riku supposed.

"I won't. I'm really sorry." He winced as the sharp sting confirmed his suspicions.

"I'll let it slide this time." She frowned at the gash, examining it closely, then bit her lip hesitantly. "This really needs stitching, but I don't have anything for that," she apologized as she began spreading a thick ointment over the injury.

"Well, thanks, anyway."

"'Welcome." The reply, Riku noted, was an afterthought. Tai wasn't one for formality. Wiping her hands together she reached for some of the cloth strips that she had taken from her bag, selecting some of the longer, thinner ones. Taking his arm once more, she wrapped the wound and tied it securely, working with a speed and a dexterity that indicated a great deal of practice. "One down." She rose up on her knees, looking him over. "A whole lot more to go. Don't do this again.

_Yeah, because I go out and ask for people to wipe the floor with me, just for the enjoyment of bleeding. _However, Riku judged civility to be the better response. "Wasn't planning on it," he stated simply.

Tai nodded as she examined the burn on his shoulder. Her eyebrows knit together, and she wet her lips tentatively. "The nasty ones are really new, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Riku replied, wincing as she went to treating it. "Why?"

"Parts of them are half healed," the girl explained. She paused. "Do you use healing magic?"

"No. It's a long story." _Don't ask me about it,_ he commanded silently.

Tai, thankfully, appeared to have a knack for reading between the lines. She shrugged dismissively. "Well, no matter. I won't bug you about it, now. You _can't_ feel well."

"Not really," Riku agreed. He grimaced as Tai tugged the bandage around his shoulder tighter. "How do you know all this stuff, anyway?"

"My mom's a professional. She taught me it." Tai laughed softly. "I was really talented at injuring myself when I was little."

Riku chuckled shortly through the burn in his throat. "Yeah, I had my scrapes, too."

"I can see that." She looked him over. "Anyway, I need a look at that nasty one on your back. Take off your shirt and lay on your stomach."

His compliance broke here, his head snapping around to look at her directly. She seemed serious enough, but few things made the concept of cold marble against bare skin agreeable. "What? No way! This floor is freezing." His protest, however, was a half-hearted one. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd already lost this argument.

"Don't be such a baby! You could barely stand a little while ago. Sprawling out oughtta feel good."

"It's cold." Riku folded his arms, suppressing a wince.

"Look, I was enjoying our little chat, but if I have to end it by wrestling you onto the floor and out of your shirt like a cheesy scene in a bad romance, I'm not gonna be happy."

Riku failed to suppress a laugh, making his battered ribs and raw throat ache. She would've been a perfect match with the rest of his friends back home, though her curtness sounded far too much like his mother. "Fine," he relented, working his way carefully out of his shirt," but do I really have to lay on the floor?"

"'Fraid so. If you don't, I might not be able to clean the wound as well. Oh, wait." She grabbed the blanket and spread it beside him. "Better?"

"Thanks," the silver-haired islander grunted as he positioned himself carefully on the worn cloth, and, though he doubted she planned on harming him at this particular moment, he watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye.

Tai whistled, grimacing as she set to work. "You're black and blue everywhere," she remarked with a hint of sympathy. "They must've trampled you."

"We're not gonna talk about it." Riku couldn't keep the weariness from his voice any longer.

Tai laughed. "Well, you need to sleep, anyway." He could practically hear her smirk. "Don't worry; I'll still be here when you wake up."

Actually, he was pretty sure that her being there while he was sleeping was half of what worried him. But, sleep sounded wonderful. In fact, he couldn't think of what he would rather be doing.

Riku suddenly realized that he couldn't hold his eyes open, and he no longer cared how uncomfortable the stone floor was. Any worries about Tai's intentions vanished. He couldn't really remember what they had been, anyway. _It doesn't feel…_ But sleep overcame him before he could complete the thought.


	7. Chapter Six

Author's Note: My long-overdue sixth chapter. School has really been tying me up lately, but next chapter shouldn't take too long, since I know exactly where it's going, and I don't think it'll be tedious to write - which hopefully means it won't be tedious to read either! Also, counting down the days to KH2. I have a reserved copy - yay! I doubt it will have much direct effect on the events of this story, though. I already know where I'm going with. Anyway, it's a little bit late right now, so stuff may be rough, but please enjoy!

Chapter Six

Waking for Riku was a slow, agonizing process, like swimming up from the depths of a vast ocean. He was too exhausted to even try, but if he didn't, he would drown. He'd never known sleep could make him so tired.

The effort to open his eyes was nearly unbearable, the light searing after so many hours asleep. It took him three tries and left sitting up unthinkable. He turned his head slowly, noting that he was in the same place he'd been when he'd drifted off, but he was now wrapped in Tai's blanket. Tai, herself, was seated in a corner, caught in the middle of a futile effort to comb her hair out with her fingers.

Riku would've laughed if his throat hadn't felt so dry and swollen. He swallowed thickly and coughed, catching his sole companion's attention. Tai sprang to her feet immediately as though she had been waiting.

"I really can't tell time here," the dark-haired girl admitted as she dropped down beside him, "but you must've been out for days. I was worried you might've been in a coma."

Riku could only manage a rough croak in response. His throat felt like it would crack and bleed.

Tai bit her lip, perplexed. "Thirsty?" she guessed.

For all the medical knowledge that she appeared to possess, Riku would have liked to demand why Tai even needed to ask. Fortunately, for the white-haired islander, the young woman didn't wait for an answer that couldn't be given. Placing a careful arm about his shoulders, she helped him to a sitting position, holding what Riku guessed was a makeshift canteen to his lips. Something as simple as water had never tasted so good.

"Better?" Tai asked after a moment.

"Much," Riku agreed. His voice was gravelly, but functioning. "You said I've been out for days?"

She nodded. "Two or three, I'd guess."

"We should get going."

"You sure you can handle it? I don' think we can go in together; we've been to different places, for one thing, and our memories would be completely different. And you're still really beat up."

"I'll manage." Riku dragged himself to his feet, steadying himself on Tai's shoulder. She gave him a doubtful look. "I'll be fine," he insisted. "I think I've got someone looking out for me, anyway."

"If you say so," she replied dismissively. "You'd better come out on the other side. I didn't do all that for you to die on me, and unconscious or not, you're the best company I've had since I got here."

Riku grinned. "I will. I owe you one."

"Okay, gimme a sec and we'll go." She returned to her corner, digging through her bag until she found her gloves.

Riku's stomach rumbled angrily, reminding the islander that three days without waking meant three days without eating. Sighing, he reached his hands into his pocket to retrieve the apples that he'd stored there days earlier. They were in sad shape – bruised nearly to mush and beginning to rot in some spots. With a shake of his head, he took up his sword to cut away the worst of the damaged fruit. The remainder was far from appetizing, but food was food at this point. A few times, he'd gone without.

As he turned back to Tai, she was slinging her pack over her shoulder and wrapping the chain of the long mace about her forearm, holding it in her opposite hand so the ball dangled about a foot below. Riku wasn't certain he liked the idea of this stranger following him around armed, but it seemed to him that if she wanted to kill him, she could have done so easily before now. If she wasn't trustworthy, it wasn't because she planned on murdering him.

For the moment, he set his fears aside, making his way through the tremendous double doors and up the stairs beyond. Tai followed with cautious steps, as though she were waiting for his legs to give out beneath him and send him careening down the marble stairs. Fortunately, they reached the top without incident.

The marble room spread before the two travelers, identical to so many rooms through which they had passed before. The air was still and heavy with the scent of Darkness. Riku could taste it in the back of his throat, but his eyes detected no one.

Tai paid the sinister air no mind – or perhaps she didn't notice it – striding confidently to the tremendous doors on the opposite wall. She paused, throwing a glance back over her shoulder at him. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Peachy," Riku answered her dryly. "I'll meet you on the other side."

"Tai smirked as she turned and clicked her card into place. "Boys," he heard her mutter as the doors swung open, and the winds drew her inside, slamming the doors shut. And he was alone again.

Her scent, ever-present in the back of his mind, had barely faded before another accosted his senses. This smell Riku knew from once before, and it appealed to him far less. He turned on his heel, already prepared to face his cloaked visitor.

The long, flaxen hair hung about his hard, angular features, and the green, glasslike eyes sat embedded in a pale mask of a face. Riku hated those eyes. Though the unwelcome caller bore not a wrinkle, his deathlike gaze made him appear beyond ancient. That face reminded of nothing but the Darkness.

"You again," Riku spat. "Vexen, right? What do you want?"

"Good of you to remember," came the flat, emotionless response. "I'm just checking up on you. I see you've been left a gift."

"If you wanna call it that. Any gift from Ansem is poisonous."

Vexen's mirthless laugh rang dully in Riku's ears. "But Ansem is and he isn't all that you believe. He is Nobody."

"I won't argue with you there."

"Don't be so curt. I meant that he walks the shadow of the Twilight, between Light and Dark, like me – and like you."

Riku bristled. "Don't be ridiculous! I let the Darkness overcome me before, but I'm through with it, now. I'll wipe it out, along with all of you who make this _place_ reek of the Darkness."

"You keep strange company for that purpose." A hint of warning sounded in Vexen's flat tone.

"That's my business, and I'll deal with it my own way."

"I'm sure. You really are a strange one. You'd make for interesting study."

"I'll pass." Riku gripped his sword. "I'm not anyone's guinea pig."

"Pity." Without warning, icy stalagmites shot up from the floor.

Riku swore, leaping back as one of the icy blades slashed the side of his leg. "Cheap shot," he growled. He rolled out of Vexen's reach before his opponent could fall upon him, but his beating days earlier still weighed heavily upon him, and the whole room seemed to pitch and roll.

The Darkness roiled inside of him, eager for him to call upon it in his moment of weakness. He pushed it away angrily, staggering to his feet, just in time to take a sharp jab to the ribs that knocked him off his feet once more.

"You're not even trying." Vexen taunted coldly. "Do you plan on fighting the Darkness sprawled on the floor?"

A cold feeling began creeping up Riku's legs, receding into numbness, and he realized with a sudden terror that a thick layer of ice was spreading inch by inch over his body, seeking to encase him entirely. Vexen approached him slowly, a large spear held aimed at the islander's chest. The ice held him fast the floor, creeping up to his knees.

The Darkness within Riku broke free, then, with a howl, more animal than a human should be, but the islander was deaf to all but the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Burst of black fire shattered his icy restraints, and he was on his feet in an instant, pouncing on his foe.

Vexen batted him away with the length of his spear, catching Riku in the side of his ribs, but the blow did nothing to dampen the youth's sudden ferocity. He rolled to his feet as if unharmed and doubled back on his opponent, slinging handfuls of crackling, black fire. The cloaked man fought back with ice, unable to gain the upper hand himself.

Beaten back once more, the islander slung a tremendous burst of the searing fire at his assailant with all the force he could muster, his rage manifest in the flames. Ice as cold as Darkness itself crashed against the blaze. Frozen shards and smoking sparks littered the ground.

Riku had had enough. With a well-practiced leap, he sprang from the wall, the leverage granting him greater height, and drove his blade down upon his startled foe. Vexen barely had time to react, stumbling out of the way. The sharp edge connected with his shoulder, and the islander could feel as well as hear the steal slide across solid bone.

Vexen tore away, the wound ripping open further, and grit his teeth. He whirled to face Riku, his typically expressionless mask twisted into what could have been either a mocking smile or a sneer. "Enough of this little experiment," he said. Only the slightest trace of pain betrayed his voice. "I have all the data I need."

"Experiment?" Riku growled, prepared to pounce upon his prey once again.

Vexen laughed tonelessly, shaking his head. He vanished, swallowed up by the shadow one more.

Riku found himself alone again. It almost alarmed him, how badly he wanted a throat to rip out.


	8. Chapter Seven

So, I got this chapter out fairly quickly. Amazing, considering I got KH2 the other day and am no longer a productive human being. Riku's really hot in this one, I admit, and I like Roxas better than Sora (No, I don't dislike Sora) - it's a shame you don't play as him for very long. He makes me sad.

Anyway, not a lot of action this chapter. It'll come next chapter, though. Tai's getting a little character development because she needs it. The more I write, the shadier she gets; it's amazing. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon, provided KH2 doesn't eat my soul any more than it already has.

Chapter Seven

"Destiny Islands – I've been there." Tai sat beside Riku, a comfortable space between the two. She looked no worse than when she'd left him last – maybe a little cleaner. She must've found water, wherever she'd been. "I'm from the capitol myself."

Riku grinned. "Oh, so you're a city brat."

"You bet." She hugged her knees to her chest. "But Destiny Islands is a nice, little town. I used to visit my grandma there."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe how bad I wanted out of there. I felt like I was suffocating."

"Why? It's not very crowded there."

"No, but everyone knows everyone, and there's nowhere to go. If there's an argument or you get in trouble, the whole town knows."

"Ah, I see. There are no secrets."

"Yeah, and there's never anything new there, either."

"But you miss it, don't you?"

"Yeah. I really do. It's funny, but I'd give almost anything to be back on those damn islands, now."

"I know whatcha mean." Tai sighed heavily, seeming to focus on some distant memory playing opposite of them. "It's like it's become too much."

Riku nodded, wrapping his arms loosely about one leg and resting his head on his knee. He breathed in the silence, tasting the scent of Darkness in the back of his throat. It was like rain, he thought. Tai smelled of rain on the open sea. It troubled him that a fragrance he knew foretold of evil clung to someone he might have valued as a friend. It troubled him more that the smell reminded him of home.

Maybe Tai herself didn't realize that the Darkness had ensnared her. Perhaps she didn't understand that it was a malevolent force. He'd been blind to such truths once. But if she didn't know the truth, if she accepted such powers blindly, then she was all the more dangerous. The greatest horrors in history began with rationalizations.

The silence lingered on for several minutes, disturbed only by the breathing of the two travelers. It was soothing after all the fighting and scrambling through the memory worlds, but it was lonely as well.

"Do you ever guess there's a reason that we're here in Castle Oblivion?"

Riku glanced at Tai, caught off-guard by the sudden interruption of his thoughts. "I guess there has to be," he answered finally. "I mean, we would've gone home otherwise, right?"

Tai nodded. She still stared ahead at some invisible point. Riku wondered silently what she might be seeing, realizing as an afterthought that he did the same more and more of late. He imagined that, like him, she saw herself as she was before and as she was now. He wanted to ask if she carried those same regrets that he did.

"Why do you think _you're_ here?" he asked slowly.

Tai straightened slightly, then blinked several times, as though the image she had been watching had just dissipated. She turned to Riku slowly, her eyes like pools of moonlight. "I think," she began, "I think I need to reconcile myself with some things." She sounded wearier than ever, a hundred years seeming to weigh on her voice.

"A lot of bad stuff's happened," guessed Riku soberly.

"Yeah," Tai sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Riku nodded sympathetically.

"What about you?" She slid around to face him, folding her legs across one another. "Why do you think you're here?"

Riku pursed his lips, examining his hands. The black gloves he always wore were cracked and tearing in places. Beneath them, he knew, his skin was far rougher than it had been when he left home. "I guess the best way to explain it," he said finally, "is that I need to cleanse myself."

"Cleanse yourself," Tai mused, "of what?"

"_You_ kept things vague."

She chuckled wryly. "Fair enough. I guess you've been burned, then. Trust issues aren't such a bad thing here."

"It's pretty healthy, really. You should try it sometime."

He didn't have to look to see Tai's sardonic smirk. "You know what?" She said after a moment. "You need to go to sleep. You wouldn't want to_ dull_ your senses.

Riku laughed dryly. Inwardly, it hurt just a little more that he couldn't trust her.

"Keyblade? I've heard of it before. But what is it?"

"A key to all doors. It opens the path to every world in existence."

"So, you're saying that the Organization will help me get where I want to go if I help you."

"Smart girl. Help up with this one, and we'll help you."

"Alright. Let's make a deal, then."

Riku opened his eyes slowly, his cramped muscles groaning. He didn't remember what it felt like to be well rested, he thought, and he found himself wondering what spring Tai drew all her energy from. He looked about carefully as he sat up. He was sure he'd heard voices, but he saw no one, and only the sounds o his own breathing and that of his companion disturbed the silence.

Tai had curled herself tightly in a ball and yet slept soundly. From her haggard appearance, she'd been far more exhausted than her behavior typically indicated. If he had heard voices, it wasn't her.

"Guess I was dreaming," he muttered. He hoped he was. There was that familiar itch between his shoulder blades. Dreaming or not, something was bothering him, and Riku had learned to trust his instincts.

He crawled over to Tai, shaking her gently. The suffering moan she emitted elicited some sympathy from him, but it didn't remove the sense of urgency from his mind. "Come on," he urged gently. "We've slacked off enough; time to move on."

Tai groaned as she sat up and rubbed her face vigorously. "You been up long?" she yawned.

"No, but I've got a strange feeling."

"This place is full of those." She rose to her feet with a grunt. "Man, I haven't slept like that in ages. This place doesn't agree with sleeping."

"Better stay awake," a startlingly familiar voice chimed in.


	9. Chapter Eight

Author's Note: Alrighty, then. It took a bit longer than necessary, but we have chapter eight. I'm not sure if that's significant or not, since I'm not sure how many chapters I'll have, but there you go. Courtesy of some odd circumstances, you can all enjoy some insight into Tai's logic - have fun with that one! Actually, it may be non-logic, depending on how you look at it. I like it, but I don't think the world would quite function the way it should on it, lol.

I whooped up on KH2 in about three or four days and was working on the perfect ending when my little brother damaged the disc. Needless to say, I wasn't happy. The weird part is, he broke it while it was in the Playstation without damaging the system - go fig. So, I guess I'll have to wait. I should have more time to devote to writing though. But I'm trying to improve upon the quality of my fanfiction; it really bothers me that it's not up to par with the rest of my writing. So, I suppose you'll be getting better stuff, not faster stuff. Sorry if this is a problem.

Anyway, review and I'll give you a cookie! (I don't know the logic behind that, but supposedly it works...)

Chapter Eight

Riku jolted to his feet, staring openly at the intruder. The face that looked back at him was his own, but the deep, indigo eyes were hollow and cold. His expression held nothing but scorn. It was like watching his past come alive – full of hate and shrouded in garb as black as the Darkness itself.

"What kind of sick son of a bitch…!" he could hear Tai gasp behind him, but he ignored her, focusing on the invader.

"Who are you?" he demanded of his dark reflection.

"I'm you," his own voice answered him. It was strange to hear his own mocking tone directed at himself.

Riku shook his head stubbornly. "Oh, no you're not. _I'm_ me. I'm not about to let anyone take _that_ away from me."

The replica laughed – an empty sound. "Alright, fine. I'm not you; I'm better than you. I'm not afraid of the Darkness."

Riku bristled. "There's a difference between fear and distaste." His nails bit angrily into his palms as he clenched his fists.

"Whatever." The doppelganger mimicked his dismissive shrug. "So you've made a friend. I bet she assumes you're the original, huh?"

The pale-haired islander gritted his teeth, as if he could bite the implication in two. "I _am_ the original," he growled. The hate inside him stirred the Darkness, but he fought against it.

"You say. That's an easy claim for anyone to make."

Tai snorted. "Look, man. I don't care who came first here. The fact is: I don't know you, and if it comes down to picking sides, I _won't_ be on yours."

The replica shook his head with a half-hearted sigh. "Well, you get points for logic." He drew a red and black blade, perfectly identical to Riku's own, displaying all the emotion he might have in picking up a flyswatter. "Regardless, there's only room for one of us."

"You read my mind," Riku snarled, retrieving his sword from the floor.

He'd barely straightened before the replica was upon him, illustrating his lack of concern over the dangers of the Darkness. Black light surrounded him, clinging like a sooty mist. Riku leapt to the side, narrowly escaping the blade's bite. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tai as she rolled out of the way, as well. He could also hear the string of obscenities she ejected.

Taking advantage of his enemy's temporary distraction, he pounced upon the doppelganger, bare steel singing though the air. His foe leapt away with a speed and an agility that only the Darkness could supply. Despite the swift maneuver, Riku's blade bit flesh, slicing the imposter's bicep. The blood barely showed against the red steel, leaving only a shining wetness. Riku smirked mockingly. "Guess you're not quite fast enough."

"Ha! Don't get too cocky," the replica retorted. In an instant, black fire shot from his hands, exploding like bursts of soot-covered lightning.

The blast struck Riku square in the chest, flinging him against the ivory, stone wall behind him. His ribs creaked agonizingly as he hit and painful bursts of white light blotted his vision. The Darkness inside him shuddered, swelling eagerly with life. He pushed back at it with all his willpower as he struggled to regain his breath.

As his sight cleared, he became aware of his doppelganger standing over him, his gaze cold enough to freeze the soul. Blood ran down his arm, dripping from his fingertips to make small, crimson splashes on the snow-colored floor. "Yeah, it's calling, isn't it?" he asked, a hollow laugh dancing on the edge of his voice. "If you were smart, you'd use it. But since you're so afraid of the Darkness, I guess I'll be what's left." He raised his sword, bringing it down to drive the blade through Riku's skull.

The sound of flesh tearing followed a sickening crack, and blood spattered Riku's face. The replica landed several feet away, a shuddering gasp of unimaginable pain escaping his lips, all but drowned out by the grating of his blade as it skidded across the marble floor. The left side of his ribcage turned unnaturally inward, the flesh around the gruesome wound tattered. Riku felt his stomach lurch and averted his eyes.

Tai stood before him, holding the chain of her bloodied mace and ignoring the slight swinging that hadn't quite ceased. Her eyes were like steel as she glared at the doppelganger. "Forget something?" she spat. But the only reply was a strangled moan.

Riku dragged himself to his knees carefully, placing a hand against the wall to help support his trembling form. He tried not to look at the shattered and bloodied figure of the doppelganger. Certainly he'd seen killing time and again, but those wounds left by a sword were of a much cleaner cut than what Tai's weapon had given. And to be living with such injuries…

"I guess it needs more work after all." Riku's head snapped up at the sound of Vexen's voice. The cloaked _Nobody_, as he had called himself, stood over the replica, a sneer of disdain crossing his features. "A good run for a first try, I suppose."

"So, this is your fault, then." The lazy swing of the mace broadened to a full circle, the rush of air as it flew about the deadly weapon audible. "We're not going through this again, so bring it!"

As usual, Vexen's smile failed to reach his eyes. "Charming offer, but I'll decline for now. I have some repairs to make." The shadows swallowed him before these last words faded, his battered creation vanishing along with him.

The whirling of the mace ceased, the chain wrapping securely about Tai's forearm. "Guess I'll save it for later," sighed the dark haired islander. She turned back to Riku, letting the mace drop to the floor with a clang. Rubbing her hands and forearms soothingly, she removed her battered, leather gloves. "You okay?"

"I'll make it." Riku grunted as he tried to stand. His eyes fell on the bloodied mace, regarding it with a twinge of paranoia.

Tai followed his gaze. "Don't worry," she assured him. "I'd never do that to you." She crouched beside him, trying to wipe the blood from his face, and helped him to his feet. "Anyway, it's good to know you're the original."

Riku frowned down at her quizzically, gripping her slender shoulder to aid his balance. "Wait – you weren't sure I was real?" Tai, he decided immediately, was unbelievable.

Tai bit her lip tentatively. "Well, I knew you were _real_. I mean, you're solid and you bleed and everything. I just had no way of knowing which of you came first."

"But you attacked the clone – or whatever – anyway? What if you had the wrong person?"

Tai looked as if Riku were missing the point. "I already _knew you_," she replied pointedly. And besides that, that other guy was an ass."

Riku laughed weakly, an uneasy sense of relief washing over him. Perhaps Tai was more straight-forward than he'd credited her for being. Or she may have possessed the most convoluted sense of logic that he'd ever encountered.

"Anyway," she continued, breaking in on his thoughts, "I was really worried for a sec. What if he had friends and family to hunt you down or something? But if he's somebody's latest creation, that's really a non-issue." She paused, chewing on a grimy fingernail for a moment, then making a disgusted face as she tasted the dirt. "Still, replicating human beings? That's more than creepy."

"You're telling me," Riku muttered. "Why do I get to be the one with a replica?"

Tai shrugged. "Can't say. One of you is plenty. Two sounds like a bad sci-fi. Still, I wouldn't trade places with you." She looked almost expectantly toward the door.

"Yeah, that'd be a bad horror movie."

Tai whirled around, planting both hands firmly on her hips. Her lips twisted into a defiant smirk. "Cheeky from a guy who almost swallowed cold steel just a second ago."

Riku returned the wry smile. "I try to keep my sense of humor," he quipped.

The smaller islander's laugh was dry, but amused nonetheless. She patted his arm familiarly as she reached down to scoop up her belongings. "Maybe you'll make it out of here with half your sanity, then."

"Well, one of us has to." Riku looked down at the red droplets that had dried on his arms and suppressed a shudder. "We need water, I guess. Anything else?"

"Any reasonable substitute for gauze or bandages," Tai mused. "And if by some off chance you come by a brush or comb…" She curled her fingers pointedly through her mass of tangled, black hair.

"I'll keep an eye open," Riku assured her. He gestured toward the door. "Anyway, ladies first."


	10. Chapter Nine

Author's Note: Trying to figure out wireless internet is a pain in the ass. I've been finished with this chapter for awhile, but my parents' net access hates me ever so much. I've thought about combining related chapters to make them longer, but I don't really want to suddenly have them be twenty pages long when they were pretty short before. Anyway, sitting at a computer and scrolling forever is more frustrating than flipping though pages of a book.

Disclaimer: The world is full of things that I would own, but can't. It doesn't stop me from writing about them.

Chapter Nine

The world was darkness, shrouded in a dense mist that hinted of a sickly, greenish glow. Riku's vision faltered the length of maybe three strides ahead of him, fading into a wall of the swirling haze. But he didn't need his sight to tell him where he was. Even without the card – one that depicted a dismal mausoleum – he would have known this place. Of all the worlds he'd seen, this one struck him as the most preposterous, but that did little to brighten the morbidity. A land where holiday traditions and fancies came to life, but of all holidays, this town held the most twisted.

Riku hadn't had the opportunity to acquaint himself with the inhabitants of Halloweentown, save for one unsavory individual, whom he would surely encounter again. He couldn't begin to imagine what sort of disturbed beings would live in such a place. Yet the grip of the Darkness had been surprisingly weak here, and it had astonished Riku to hear that Sora had taken well to several of its people. Back then, held in the grasp of the Darkness, the news had fueled his jealousy, heightening his sense of betrayal – even the rotted came before Sora's two best friends. Now, he supposed that even a moving corpse could possess a good heart, and unfounded contempt could be more revolting than living death.

His mood dampened by the sickly vapor, Riku picked his way along the weathered path slowly, only half noticing the knotted roots and brambles as he stepped over them. He knew the Heartless were lurking in the fog, and the slightest misstep would alert them to his presence. One more scratch was one more chance at infection, not to mention more time to use up the precious few supplies that Castle Oblivion provided them.

Riku halted as one knee struck hard on the corner of a crumbling tombstone, a tingling sensation running down his leg, and bit off an oath. An eerie light cut through the haze, skimming over the graves – the seeking eye of a more ghoulish breed of Heartless.

Crouching behind the offending grave marker, Riku scanned the cemetery. More of the searching beams of light filtered through the mists, and a quick count revealed that there were at least six, including the one that he had avoided only by chance. A few yards to the right had made all the difference.

He all but crawled among the graves, sheltering himself from the eyes behind the tombstones whenever he could. The paranoia it induced was maddening. The space between his shoulder blades itched unbearably as if invisible eyes beat down upon him. His heart thudded in his ears, and the Darkness inside roiled and hissed. The seconds dragged on like years, and he wanted more than anything to break free of his hiding and run, to race across the cemetery, to fly passed his pursuers – to most likely crack both his shinbones on a grave marker and tumble headlong into the iron gate at the other side. The suspense was torture, but he wasn't looking to add insults to his own injuries.

Patience paid off as the bare, metal bars of the fence rose out of the fog. Riku squinted through the spaces between the planks at what lie beyond. As he suspected, he could detect nothing but more of the glowing mist. _Just can't catch a break._

Crawling along the edge of the fence, he finally located the gate. There were more of the lights now; he counted nine of them, fading in and out and closer every moment. Gritting his teeth, Riku sprung to his feet, dragging the door open. It grated against the rocky path with a screech that made him want to bite through his own jaw.

Lights flashed behind him, the ghoulish seekers locating their target at long last, and the singing of metal claws raking against one another assaulted his ears. Instinct alone saved the islander as he darted to the left and tucked his head to roll. He felt the bladelike fingers snag in his hair as he tumbled through the narrow opening, his shoulders catching the edge of the gate.

Landing heavily on his side, Riku swung about, kicking at the gate. A clawed hand grasped at him, long silver strands wrapped about the rusted fingers. He slammed his feet against the door again and again, growling back at the grating shriek of rage from his most persistent assailant. He gritted his teeth, wishing the ache in his jaw could drown out the inhuman screech.

The gate slammed shut on the spindly arm with an audible crack, and the ragged appendage contorted and fell limp. Riku stared at the dead limb, waiting for it to evaporate into the Darkness. But this assurance didn't come, and he realized with a shudder that the branch was still attached to the yet-living Heartless on the other side. The islander, of course, cared not at all about the unnatural beasts, but his bones ached with empathy all the same. Regardless, he loathed the idea of touching anything belonging to the creature, and nothing short of the threat of death would convince him to open that door again.

A glance about as he rose to his feet revealed that he was in the town square. This mist was thinner here, lingering about the fence to block the graveyard from his view, and he could see the vacant, forbidding buildings that rose up all about him. Each one stood in a permanent state of disrepair. The whole place held an air of abandoning all that was living, but inside he knew that this had less to do with its ghostly inhabitants than the Darkness that permeated even the stones beneath his feet.

But, setting that invasive power aside, something far more immediately important caught Riku's eye. Straight across from him, a large fountain rose up in the middle of the square. The figure in the center was a grotesque, goblin-like being that grasped out with rusted and claws and reminded too much of a Heartless, but the greater interest was the water that spurted from its mouth. Thirst was a stronger survival instinct than fear – not that much normal and sane frightened the islander anymore.

Yet, a closer look was less encouraging. The water that spouted from the impish statue held a greenish tint, and a faintly sulfurous odor drifted from the liquid. A little bit of sulfur was neither uncommon nor particularly harmful, but it did have a habit of leaving a terrible aftertaste, and Riku hesitated to even handle any substance that he strongly suspected resembled absinthe.

Reluctantly, he extended a delicate finger, praying the unknown substance wasn't acidic. No pain registered, and a quick inspection revealed tat the digit remained intact. More comfortingly, the greenish coloration appeared to have more to do with the faint lights that dotted the fountain than with the water itself. _Maybe these guys aren't as freakish as I thought_, he admitted silently.

A strange sensation halted his musings, and Riku froze as a heavy wind blew through him, carrying an intoxicating scent of Darkness – one of rain on the islands. He could taste the sea in the back of his throat, and the allure of familiarity made it all the more dangerous. A rush of footsteps followed the breeze, light and quick, and he could very nearly feel a small form brush by him. "Tai?" he called in puzzlement.

The padding continued, moving decisively across the town square toward one of the darkened houses. No one else had that smell. The steps sounded just like hers. It must have been Tai, but Tai couldn't possibly be here. These were _his_ memories, and he'd seen her pass through into her own.

But she still was on the same floor as he was. Were the rooms still physical enough that they could connect to one another? Could they help one another? More importantly, could hurt one another without knowing?

"Tai!" Riku tore after the footsteps, hoping she could sense him as well – and that it would be news to her. "Tai, can you hear me?"

The sound quickened. Was she running away from him? Or was something that he couldn't see chasing her? The footsteps continued, moving rapidly up the steps of a rundown, abandoned dwelling. Each one landed with a heavy _thunk_. As they reached the top, a creaking sounded, followed shortly by the slam of a door. But no such movement registered in the shadow of Halloweentown.

Riku swore, bounding up the steps two at a time. If he was right, Tai's door would lead to a room connected with the one on the other side of his. If not, he'd just have to catch his breath and think up a different theory.

A loud crack tore through the relative silence, and Riku's ankle twisted as the wooden step buckled beneath him. He felt his stomach drop, and the world spun in circles. He was falling, he knew, grasping for a railing or support he already knew wasn't there.

There was no solid ground beneath the steps, and the expected sudden stop was out of reach. This revelation struck Riku just as a wooden beam did the same, catching him just above the ear. He didn't even see the world go black.


	11. Chapter Ten

Author's Note: So, I have a working computer. I have working internet. I have all my notes. Why did this chapter take so long? Well, I'd like to offer a valid explanation, but the best I can come up with is that I was doing other stuff. Yeah, yeah, I know – slacker. But I wasn't really slacking. I was even doing other _related_ stuff. Like a Kingdom Hearts music video and some fan art and a drawing of Tai. Haven't posted any of that online either, but I will soon. Anyway, here's the long awaited tenth chapter. Enjoy! Review for cookies.

Disclaimer: All I have to do is kidnap some Square-Enix executive, and then…

Chapter Ten

She leaned over him, resting her hands on hr knees as she did so, wisps of silvery hair falling in her face. "So you made a new friend," she said, smoothing his hair back affectionately. She tilted her head to the side to observe the faceless sprite child behind him. "And what's her name?"

Riku turned to face his companion, smaller than him, dark haired and nothing else. She barely had shape, no color; she was washed out, like a watercolor painting that had fallen in a puddle. He knew it was strange, this obvious visage of half-existence, but he couldn't startle himself into alarm. And yet, he could see that she was smiling, despite the absence of any features that aloud for expression at all.

"This is --," he answered his mother finally. The name was familiar, flowing, but he knew that he had said nothing, and he couldn't really think of her name, either.

But his mother only smiled amusedly. "--," she repeated, "my, such a pretty name."

* * *

The floor beneath Riku was filthy. Even in his state of half consciousness, he could feel the grime beneath his fingertips. The substance under the dirt was cold and smooth – a metal of some sort, he realized somewhere in the back of his still reeling mind. Reluctantly forcing his eyes open, he pushed himself carefully into a sitting position. 

It took a moment for his vision to clear, but no shock registered as the iron bars that surrounded him came into focus. It blended with the rest of his luck just fine. _Funny, though_, he mused bitterly. _None of my other demons came looking for me._

Testing the leg that had "discovered" the faulty step, Riku found that the injury was a superficial one. Only a slight, dull ache lingered to remind him to regard his footing more closely in the future. His head hadn't taken to the wood half so well. Blood caked the entire left side of his face and neck, and a sharp pain screamed at the slightest disturbance of the wound.

He tilted his head back carefully, judging the distance that he had fallen. Rusty iron bars hindered his sight, but the gap in the ceiling was more than large enough for him to locate. No one had moved him since his battle with gravity. Hazy light filtered through his unexpected doorway ten feet straight above him. Luck had been nice enough to save him from any broken bones, anyway.

But logically, he couldn't have fallen _through_ the bars. Not that Castle Oblivion necessarily made sense, but his captor would have to know he was there, had to at least place the top of the cage over him. Furthermore, the one who set the trap knew he would try to pass through that door.

Riku hated to blame Tai, and the sound of her footsteps may have been coincidence, or even a trick. Tai had never given him a reason to distrust her – she'd spent quite a lot of time looking after his injuries, she was a good companion, and she'd never so much as asked for more information about him than he had of her. In many ways, she'd been a far better friend over the past week or more than he had been to those dear to him for years. Still, there was something inherently untrustworthy about the little shrew, and instinct wouldn't rule her out.

But there were far more crucial matters at hand – like how the hell he was going to escape his iron prison. His eyes were adjusting, now, and he could dimly discern the outlines of his surroundings. He'd only entered this room once in his life, of his own free will, then, and briefly at that, but he wasn't quick to forget a room where people gambled with their lives and worse.

The whole place was laid out like a casino, lined with slot machines and roulette tables, and covered in the trappings of one dead. Even in the feeble moonlight, he could make out the shapes of motionless, skeletal bodies and scattered bones. If his captor was present, he wasn't revealing himself, but the islander didn't imagine he would hide for much longer. He didn't credit this particular being as having much patience.

Perhaps half an hour passed, seconds ticking by at a dragging pace, punctuated by each fruitless effort at escaping the cage. Then the black-lights flicked on, the bleached bones and painted trappings sprang to life with a glow that was almost festive amid the macabre. A metal door clanged heavily against the stone walls, and a hollow chuckle echoed from above.

Riku watched as his captor lumbered down the winding, iron staircase. There was nothing to this being. He was made up of a coarse, off-white sack that glowed an eerie green under the black-light, and his substance was built of crawlers – spiders, beetles, worms – all these things and fear.

Riku hadn't worried about the Boogie Man since before he'd started school. He'd stopped believing in all those ghouls and goblins so long ago that he could hardly believe that they had ever felt real to him. It was just his luck to be staring his childhood terror in the face, now.

"Well, what do ya know!" The breath that rushed from the sack's cavern of a mouth was musty and stale, and the eyes that studied him were black and empty. "A fly caught in a web!"

"Save it, Oogie," Riku spat. Real or not, fearing the Boogie Man wasn't going to help him.

"Boy, you best be learnin' how to talk to Mr. Oogie Boogie!"

"Oh, please!" The islander nearly groaned. "What're you gonna do? Gloat me to death?"

"Good idea. I could slow roast you and make a stew with your bones while I'm at it."

"Mmmh, tasty, but no. Come on, I know you're a gambling man. Let's make a wager."

The sack seemed to consider this suggestion a moment. "What kind of wager, hmmm?"

"Preferably one where I get a chance to leave. Sure, the cage is cozy, but I'm a little pressed for space."

Oogie cackled thunderously, tilting his head back. Gambling always suited his fancy, but more so when life and death were involved. "A dice game! If you win, I'll open the cage." He chuckled ominously. "But if you lose, now, well, that could get messy."

"Eh, a dice game?" Riku's lips twisted in a grimace of distaste. "Whatever happened to a good ol' fashioned battle of wits? We could just swap riddles or something. C'mon, first to stump the other wins."

"A battle of wits ain't gamblin', boy!"

"Of course," the islander muttered. "That would've _almost_ been fair of you."

"It's not about fair, neither; it's all chance." The sack of ghoul straightened to his full height, smirking down at his prey. He stood nearly twice Riku's length and at least three times his width – impressive to someone who was up to being impressed. "Take the roll or leave it."

"I'll take it," Riku sighed.

"Good. Now, call a number."

"Call a number? I get one chance in _eleven_?"

"One in eleven is still a chance!" The emptiness of those black eyes danced with glee. "What's your call, hmmm?"

"Alright, fine. Gimme the dice. If the chances are that slim, _you're_ not rolling for me." Riku slid a battered wrist through the bars. Bruises and blood glistened strangely amid the neon glow, and he could hear Tai bitching at him in the back of his mind.

The two cubes materialized out of nowhere, tumbling into the cup of his palm. _Bone_, he thought. _That figures._ He folded his fingers over the detestable objects, pulling his arm back into the cage. Shards of fate rested in his hand, but that didn't mean he trusted it in the least. One in eleven – he'd have rather taken his chances in a lair of rabid badgers.

"Alright," Riku said slowly. "Seven's supposed to be a lucky number. I'll call that one."

"Seven? Is that your final call?"

"Yeah. I mean, my funeral, right? I'll stick with seven." Riku sighed heavily, giving two shakes to the dice before opening his palm. They tumbled carelessly from his hand, striking his shoe just below his ankle and clattering across the metallic floor.

The first stopped just within reach – five dots on its palely glowing face just barely visible in the darkness – but the other rolled deeper into the shadows. "Ah, shit!" Riku growled, scrambling across the filthy surface. Hunching his shoulders, he leaned over the errant die. "Tough luck, Oogie. I win."

"Liar!" thundered the nightmare.

The islander whipped around, fists clenched and teeth grit. "Listen up, you son of a bitch! I played by your slanted rules, and I still fucking won! Now, let me the fuck out!" His voice grated and cracked, and a burning sensation spread down his throat. He was sure he was damaging his vocal cords, but that hardly mattered, given the situation.

"I never seen no seven!"

"Then bring your ass in here and look for yourself!"

"Boy," the Boogie Man nearly roared, ripping the door from its hinges, "if you lyin' to me!"

Riku scrambled back out of his enraged captor's path, hands scraping across the dirty floor. Oogie lumbered past, steps slow but powerful. The form hunkered over the errant die, oblivious to the islander sprawled across the ground beside him.

Riku felt the cold steel of his blade slit the palm of his left hand and grasped at the sword frantically. He rolled onto his knees, driving the weapon into his enemy's back. The sack gave way easily, the cloth shredding as Oogie whirled to face his attacker. Only insects and arachnids poured from the gaping wound, a testament to the lack of substance of a childish fear.

"No!" The sack swung frantically at his assailant, but his limbs were already going limp, deflating like a balloon. "What is this? That's not part of the game!" His voice was splitting, now, turning to the chirping of bugs.

"Screw the game! A 'gamblin' man' should know better than to drop his guard."

The shrill myriad of voices seemed almost to laugh as the pests skittered by, emptying the sack. "The Darkness will have you, yet!" they shrieked.

"Let it try," Riku answered. He climbed to his feet, brushing the vermin away with a look of bitter distaste. "I'm ready."

The islander kicked the empty husk of the Boogie Man aside and bent to retrieve the scattered die, really seeing it for the first time. Two black dots stared back from its pale surface like a pair of hollow eyes. Funny – he guessed he'd won after all.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: Call me a ditz. Come on. Go ahead. You have no idea how long I've had this chapter finished and just forgot to type it up and post it. Ladies and gentlemen, I am an idiot. I apologize profusely for this ridiculous oversight. And I hope that since I'm already well into the next chapter, it will be out that much sooner, and then you'll forgive me. Thank you for your patience.

Disclaimer: I wanna know what kind of dirt-bag lawyer you have.

Chapter Eleven

"I really don't understand how you keep getting torn up like this," Tai was saying for at least the twelfth time. "You just don't strike me as that overwhelmingly clumsy."

"I'm not," Riku growled. "I don't see how you _don't_ get torn up."

Tai shrugged dismissively. "It's just a matter of working the possibilities in your favor."

"_Sure._"

The little islander smirked. "Alright, fine, but really it helps when you remember the people you encountered as being really good at watching your back." She dug through her bag a moment, removing a small bundle of clean, white cloth.

"You mean there are actually _people_ when you go through?"

"Yeah." Tai seemed puzzled. "Don't you see any?"

Riku shook his head. "No, nothing but Heartless. Well, a few old foes, but _those_ don't count."

"Sheesh. That sucks. No wonder you were so lonely. I mean, the people I see may only be memories, but at least I see them."

"No, there's no one." Riku shook his head, sighing. "But I guess I have no one to blame but myself."

"How so?" Tai wondered aloud. Riku hesitated, and she added, "If you don't mind me asking…"

"No, it's a fair question. I left my friends behind and tried to forge my own path without them. That's why they aren't there – so the hooded guys say. They weren't in my heart."

Tai frowned. "I don't think that's true. We all have to make difficult choices. Even when they're bad ones, it doesn't mean we didn't try. If you didn't love your friends, you wouldn't be sorry you distanced yourself from them."

Riku smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Tai leaned forward and patted his knee affectionately, then remembered the bundle in her lap. "Oh, yes," she murmured. "I had to bust into someone's farm house to get this, but I guess it doesn't matter, since they weren't real." She folded back the cloth to reveal a fresh loaf of bread.

"Ah, lucky! You had civilization!"

Tai laughed. "Yeah, sorta. But wouldn't ya know, _still_ no brush." She split the loaf in two, handing him the slightly larger end.

"Thanks. I've been looking, too, but no luck." Tai's hair was looking less and less manageable every day, Riku had noted, but he couldn't say much for his either at this point.

"Well, thanks for trying, anyway." She took a large bite out of her bread, humming appreciatively. "So, where did you end up anyway?"

"A graveyard," Riku groaned, "followed by a ghost town – literally."

"Ah, suck! What were you doing in a place like that?"

"Fighting the Boogie Man – don't laugh."

Tai choked on a hunk of bread. "Too late," she cackled through her coughing. "You serious?"

"'Fraid so. Worse, Santa Claus is apparently real, too."

"Ah, I'm not scared of him. I don't have a chimney. No bearded freak's gonna pelt _me_ with coal."

"I'm sensing some deeply rooted childhood issues there."

"We'll save that story for a rainy day. You were saying?"

"I was just realizing – when I was nine, I shamed my best friend into saying he didn't believe in Santa Claus."

Tai clicked her tongue chidingly. "What kind of friend are you?" she taunted. "You went and destroyed a childhood fantasy and put your best friend on the Naughty List for life in one foul swoop."

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll hear all about it next time I see him."

"Should be entertaining." A long pause filled the air with a heavy silence. Tai finished her share of the bread and began to scuff the toe of her boot on the marble floor, leaving streaks of dirt and worn leather on the clean, cold surface. "So, tell me," she said finally, "what did the Boogie Man do to beat you up so bad?"

Riku rolled his eyes, groaning. He should've known she would ask. "Really, it was the architecture. A step gave out on me, and I cracked my head, and there was nothing but an open basement below."

"Ouch, I'm sorry." She winced sympathetically, then continued on a whimsical note, "The bruise is pretty, though. Purple's not a bad color for you."

Riku smiled wryly. "That's great, Tai." He bit his lip tentatively. "By the way, before I had my little fallout with gravity, I thought I heard you nearby."

Tai blinked. "Really? In the room with you?"

Riku nodded. "Well, basically – in the town square with me, anyway. I could hear someone run by me, up the steps, and through the door. I thought it was you, but you couldn't seem to hear me, so I tried to follow. Big mistake, I guess. The houses in that place just aren't up to builder's codes."

"Well, when you're my size, you _do_ tend to run a lot, heh." Tai shook her head. "I haven't heard you, but my memories are pretty noisy. I suppose this warrants some investigation."

"Yeah," Riku agreed. "If we can interfere with each other's worlds, I'd rather know how to use it to our advantage before we accidentally maim each other."

"Well said. Why don't we sleep on it. We can talk about it some more in the morning – or whatever it is."

"Right." Riku popped the last of his bread in his mouth and curled up in the floor, laying the uninjured side of his head in the crook of one arm.

He watched as Tai turned her back to him and did the same. She seemed so at ease, as if she didn't have anything to worry about here. Somehow, he knew it was more cunning than trusting that made her that way. There had to be reasons she was always so prepared. And then there was the Darkness. Even if she did mean well, how long before the Darkness got to her? It probably already had.

"Hey, Tai?" Riku called after a moment. He suddenly wanted badly to strike a chord in her heart – if she had any heart left.

"Huh?"

"I'm glad you're on my side," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Hmm…" was the only response he received.

* * *

Riku laid in a half daze, his thoughts whirling like a vortex. So many things that he'd forgotten returned to him in his near-dreams in Castle Oblivion. The particles came rushing back and flooded his mind as they reassembled themselves into whole thoughts.

Years ago, a boy had lived just a few houses down from him. No, not Sora – Sora had always lived kitty-corner from Riku; he could remember not being able to cross the street to play with Sora without an adult. This was someone else – older than Sora, but younger than Riku – someone with red hair and… brown eyes? Or maybe blue - he couldn't quite remember…

He was dead, now. It had been years since the strange illness took him away forever. Riku guessed it was a few months before his seventh birthday; he remembered missing him, then. He remembered being afraid when he realized that children could die, just like old people. Both his parents had reassured him repeatedly that it wouldn't happen to him. Chappu's illness was a rare fluke…

"Chappu." Riku's eyes snapped open. How could he have forgotten. Chappu was his friend – Wakka's little brother.

Muscles groaning, Riku pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. Tai's pack lay discarded in the corner. Tai, herself, was nowhere to be found.

_She couldn't have gone far; she wouldn't leave her things_, Riku thought as he picked himself up off the floor. "Tai?" No answer.

Riku stretched, looking about once more. He took a few stiff steps forward, unsheathing his blade. _Of all the stupid…_

But then, Tai appeared in the doorway, half doubled over and clutching her stomach. She started upon seeing him, clearly surprised. "Oh," she gasped shakily, "I didn't think you'd be up so soon." She staggered toward him.

Riku returned his weapon to its sheath, his brow knit in a frown. "Tai, what happened? Where were you?"

Tai shook her head, panting lightly. "I… I was feeling a little sick."

"Maybe you should lie down."

She nodded. "Yeah, I'll just be a minute." She practically crawled back into her corner, curling up against the wall.

Riku eyed her movements skeptically but said nothing. She moved as if injured, not ill. Someone or something had knocked the wind out of her. For whatever reason, Tai was lying to him.

Time dragged by without the slightest sign of movement. Riku estimated – though by what, he didn't know – that about ten minutes had gone by before he began to wonder if Tai had fallen asleep. He contemplated the option of waking her, but if she really needed the rest, dropping her in one of the hooded figures' false worlds could've been signing her death warrant. As suspicious as she could be, she was the only friend he had here.

Fortunately, after another moment, she began to stir of her own accord and uncurl, stretching sore muscles carefully. She rubbed at her stomach, running her fingers through her tangled, grungy hair. "We should probably get going," she rasped as she dragged herself to her feet. "I'd rather not stay here any longer than I have to."

"Can you handle it?" Riku asked.

"I'm tough." She forced a weak, if cocky, smile.

Riku shook his head. "No. I won't know what to do if you don't turn up on the other side. I can't exactly come in after you."

Tai chuckled airily. "I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine. Look, just one card left, then they have to come up with something else."

"Yeah, one left. Another hour or two won't make a difference."

"I'll beat you to the other side." Tai's answer was sharp, persistent, but amused all the same.

Riku almost laughed. "Alright, you do that. I'll bring you a present, just for some motivation."

"Appealing to my materialism? Okay, but this had better be good."

"The best to be found."

Tai smirked, hefting her bag over her shoulder. The slight upturn of her lips twisted into a painful grimace. "Actually, I could sell my soul for some anti-inflammatories right about now."

"If only you had one to sell…"

* * *

Author's Closing: Alright, we've past the halfway mark with this fanfic, I believe, though I don't know how many more chapters I'll have. I do know how many more worlds I'm writing, though, and what all will happen. I guess Tai's still a rather shady character, but I try to keep her likeable. And for the record, Riku's done getting kicked around, now – whether by Heartless or just good ol' Murphy's Law. Next chapter, he gets to kick some Heartless ass. Hurray!

Hope you enjoyed! As always, reviews are appreciated.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: I'm admittedly way behind with this chapter, and it wasn't that I didn't try. Unfortunately, I had two close family members and a friend's father all pass away in a span of three weeks, and I wasn't feeling up to worrying about fanfiction. Once that was all straightened out, I discovered that I'd somehow lost the notebook I'd been writing in, so I had to rewrite the entire chapter from scratch. To say the least, it was disheartening.

Hopefully, nothing else will happen to delay the remainder of the story, but at this point, I realize I can't make any promises. In the future, I think I'll avoid posting until the rough draft of the story is entirely finished. At least then I won't leave anyone hanging. I will be finishing out the stuff I already have up ASAP, though.

Disclaimer: I give up on the disclaimers.

Chapter Twelve

The world was ocean. Well, really it didn't quite seem that way. Riku found that he could breathe just fine and the drag of the water did nothing to hinder his movements, but still, he could feel the cool, dampness on his skin and saturating his clothes. It seemed almost more like salty mist that actual sea.

The islander stood at the bottom of a deep cavern, the smooth sides stretching up for forever, feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, as comfortable as any native would have been. He could even see clearly as if the sun had no trouble passing through several leagues of water to light the logically very dark world below. He didn't complain about the physical impossibilities, however. If the miniature worlds wanted to twist nature to make his life easier, he'd graciously accept it. It wasn't like it was real, anyway.

He crossed the cavern resolutely, paying little attention to the seashells and coral that decorated a very detailed seascape. His eyes locked on the "natural" doorway on the other side. In the back of his mind and deep down in the pit of his chest and stomach, the Darkness roiled. It was growing more aggressive. He could tell. It was much easier to provoke than before and so much harder to suppress. He didn't think he really cared to try anymore.

He passed through that first room without incident, traveling down a short, convenient tunnel. The seaweed clung to the walls, assaulting him with slimy tendrils as he passed, but he barely noticed. The first room faded into the background abruptly and the next stretched out before him, strikingly similar to its predecessor. The only difference Riku could detect was that there were two doors in this one, directly across from one another, one to the left, the other to his right.

This world was painfully redundant, he decided, but then again, he'd spent little time in Atlantica, and he didn't really remember much of what he had seen. For the most part, it had all looked the same to him, an endless expanse of rocks, seaweed, shells and coral, stretching on for an eternity with nothing to interrupt it but the occasional sunken ship and a sea witch's lair. He had no grounds for protest. He saw exactly what he remembered.

Riku pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking from one door to the other. He wasn't sure if it mattered which he chose. There wouldn't be much to his memory, provided the hooded figures hadn't decided to make places up. There was only so much wandering around and circles he could do. The doors were exactly identical.

On a whim, Riku chose right. After all, Ichabod Crane chose left, and look where it got him.

His eyes swept the room as he crossed, taking in every rock and sea anemone. He was actually disappointed to discover not a single heartless. _C'mon, let's get this over with_, he very nearly growled. The sooner he killed them, the sooner he could stop worrying about them.

A flicker to his left drew his eyes. Shadows darted about the floor in sharp, sweeping motions, back and forth, back and forth, circling him. He turned his head upward, staring the aquatic Heartless in what would pass for faces. He drew the sword on reflex, leaping up at his would-be assailants.

The first split cleanly in two, evaporating into black mist in the water. Unbidden, the Darkness broke free with startling ease. Riku didn't even have time to fight it. In an instant the ocean was afire with blackness. Electricity crackled through the currents, destroying the octopus-like monsters in seconds.

Riku drew in a heavy breath, watching as the remains dissipated. The black energy thudded in his ears along with his pulse, seeking any other excuse to be released. The islander growled, grinding his back teeth so hard they hurt. Closing his eyes, he forced his pulse to slow and the adrenaline to ease out of his blood. He had to be rational; rationality was the only thing that could separate him from the beasts he slaughtered.

He wondered offhandedly how Tai managed to keep so calm. He'd seen her, if briefly, in the heat of battle, and she seemed perfectly aware of herself. He'd yet to see her lose that awareness, even for a second. Then again, Ansem and Maleficent and all the rest had seemed very self-possessed in the beginning. He didn't know how deep the Darkness had dug its claws in her or even how much of its power she'd been able to touch. For that matter, she could have lost control entirely; Tai could be just another Heartless talking.

Riku shook his head, starting through the tunnel. He hated to think that way. It made him feel bitter. But he had too many poor judgments on character lately. He knew too well what Darkness did. If only he could stop her.

Ahead of him, the tunnel opened to the remains of a shipwreck – a perfect place for scavenging.

Scanning the area for any sign of Heartless, Riku rejoiced very briefly in the clear of his surroundings. He wasn't willing to chance standing around long, knowing that something was bound to show up eventually. With a running start, he leapt up into the gaping whole in the side, dragging himself through. He wood bit into his palms and scraped at his knees, but of all his complaints, this one barely even made the list.

The space before him must have been the hold of a cargo ship, the kind he used to watch pull in and out of his islands every day as a child. The crates that were once neatly stacked lay in mainly broken heaps, contents spilling out into the floor – food. The fruits the ship had been transporting were the kind that grew at home, bananas and oranges mainly, and the sight of them alone was enough to make his stomach gnaw at itself. He didn't waste any time surveying the environment this time, pouncing savagely on the unbelievably well-preserved produce.

It took all his self-control to stop before he made himself sick. He'd all but grown accustomed to the constant hunger pangs. He gathered what he could into his pockets, wishing he'd had the fortune to come across some sort of bag in his travels, and made for the steps.

Up two flights, Riku came upon the captain's quarters. The windows had long busted out, either from the wreck itself or – as unlikely as it was – the heavy pressure. Regardless, the room itself was remarkably intact, and the islander had to remind himself not to criticize the lack of realism when he was depending on it. Once he escaped Castle Oblivion, he could roll his eyes all he wanted, if he actually cared to think about it.

So, rather than comment on the numerous impossibilities, he began ravaging the room for anything and everything useful. He started by ripping the sheets off the bed, folding one to store away and hopefully not use as the bandages he knew it would most likely be later and using the other to store his new findings. Next, he tore through the heavy, oaken desk, searching for whatever might be useful. Inside, he found mainly writing utensils, which, though very nice, were decidedly useless. He did, however, chance upon a pocket knife, and that he stored away in his now vacant pocket.

Finally, he set upon the vanity table in the center of the back wall. Like everything else, it was bolted down and in perfect condition, but somehow, he still doubted he would actually find what he was looking for. He almost laughed as he jerked open the top drawer, discovering what he wanted on the first try. He removed the brush from the drawer carefully, examining it for any problems that would make it unusable. It seemed in sturdy enough condition, made of stainless steel with a comb fitted into a compartment on the handle. Tai could finally have her brush; she'd have to find the painkillers herself. Satisfied with the results of his mission, he deposited the brush in his makeshift sack and tied it shut, slinging it over his shoulder.

But he froze as a shadow slide across the floor, and his eyes darted toward one of the windows. He knew those movements. They were the movements of a predator.

Riku drew a deep breath, gritting his teeth. Sharks, he knew, weren't supposed to be particularly aggressive towards humans. Typically, shark attacks only occurred around fishing spots when there was already blood in the water, but this world had already proved itself to be scientifically inaccurate, and he wasn't willing to take his chances this time. Crouching low, he crawled back through the ship to the hole that had served as his entrance.

He hovered a moment at the edges of the opening, his eyes darting quickly across the empty expanse. The predator hadn't made its way around this way yet. He could wait he knew, but he could be waiting a long time – or waiting for the beast to find him first. There was only one option left: to make a run for it.

Riku took one last look, then leapt down from the ship, hitting the ground with a roll and picking himself up in one smooth motion. He made for the nearest door, hoping he wouldn't hit a dead end and have to come back this way. Behind him, he heard the sound of wood splitting – and a fierce snarl.

_You've got to be kidding me!_ Riku nearly screamed. With a shark fast on his heels, the islander made for the closest door, not caring if he was headed the wrong way.

And finding the right door had never seemed quite so unfortunate.

There was something sickeningly unnatural about the sea witch. The pallor of her skin had never sat right with him. None of the other sea people had it. Coupled with the simple fact that Riku had not fondness for anything as slimy as an octopus or a squid, the islander had all the reasons in the world for his distaste.

But most troubling was the mad glint in her eyes. Gifted in her witchcraft, Ursula had a profound ability to alter her appearance and could grant herself a rather charming shape. However, if the eyes are truly a window into the soul, then the sea witch's was twisted, malformed mockery of a spirit, indeed.

When Riku looked into her eyes, he saw a cruel, depraved human being who delighted in twisting the wishes of others into nightmares of despair. Most people fell into Darkness, and it twisted them, but at heart, they had once been good, and he would have liked to believe that there was still some hope for them. Ursula had been born evil.

He had no words for her. He wanted this whole matter over and done with. When the Darkness beckoned him again, he let it run free, and for the first time, he fought with it rather than against it. The moments that followed flew by in a rush that he barely saw, devoid of the fear that he was losing control even when he knew it was so.

He didn't know how long the Darkness kept its hold, but when it left, it took most of his strength with it, and the sea witch lay dead, the stolen trident she had so coveted piercing through her throat. Numbly, he gathered up his sack of scavenged goods, securing it to his belt, and turned his head slowly to find the door.

Through his fatigue, he could hear a dull rumbling – or maybe it was more feeling that hearing. He was suddenly very cold. The realization hit him with the force of the "air" around him suddenly turning to saltwater. He inhaled sharply and coughed, then gasped, taking in more water. As panic and adrenaline took control, he kicked ferociously, swimming frantically for what he thought might be the surface. He might have been swimming in circles, for all he knew. He no longer had any sense of gravity.

Riku inhaled again, his lungs heaving in more water. His own reflexes were killing him. It was the pull of the door, dragging him back to reality – or what counted for it – that saved him. He collapsed in a soggy heap on the white marble floor, expelling the salty water from his lungs violently.

Tai scrambled to his side from nowhere, grabbing his shoulder. "Riku? Riku! are you okay?"

He coughed again, shaking his head. He couldn't stop. He couldn't breathe.

"Don't panic. Just keep coughing. As long as you can do that, you'll be fine."

Easy for her to say. He couldn't even scowl at her. It felt like the blood vessels in his eyes were bursting, and he was expecting pieces of his lungs to come up any moment now.

But finally, he recovered himself, drawing deep, gasping breaths, clinging to his companion to keep himself steady. "There, now," she whispered, rubbing his back. "You're okay." It was strangely motherly. "What happened? You scared me."

"Scared you?" His voice sounded feeble and raspy, but at least he could speak. He rubbed at his teary eyes shakily. "Scared me. Never… thought I'd hate… the ocean so much…"

Tai laughed weakly. She sounded relieved. "Yeah, you can't make friends with nature. Especially not that friendly."

"Yeah… Here… help me…" He reached a wobbly arm toward his sack, waiting for Tai to hand it back to him. With unsteady hands, he untied the sheet, displaying his findings and grabbed for the metallic brush. "I brought you something…"

Tai laughed louder, now, more at ease. "Ah, yes, you're a lifesaver." She took the brush from him and gave his shoulder an appreciative squeeze. "If I'd known that's all I had to do, I'd have tried drowning you sooner."

Riku only sighed. He was too tired to be witty.


End file.
